


Hearth and Home

by imaginary_golux



Category: Schneewittchen | Snow White (Fairy Tale)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 23:45:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snow White misses the dwarves.  Written for the Disney Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearth and Home

The Prince thinks Snow White is – as her name suggests – as pure as the driven snow, pale and virginal and utterly without any experience of the real world or sex or anything important at all. Snow White does not bother to disillusion him. She does not say to him, “You idiot, I spent several years in the company of a group of men who, while not precisely human, were at the very least close enough, and I was intensely grateful to them, and when they said I took care of them they meant that in all possible interpretations, and furthermore, do you really think anyone would mourn that dramatically for someone who was just pretty and good at sweeping?” The Prince, she is sure, would take that entirely the wrong way, so she keeps her pretty red mouth shut and lies back and thinks of the forest while he does his marital duty.

When he has gone back to his bed, in his own bedroom, leaving her alone on clean, cold, white sheets, paler even than her pale skin, she slides a hand between her legs and thinks of the dwarves, of lying sprawled on the rug before the fireplace while fourteen hands and seven tongues caressed her, of being filled mouth and ass and cunt all at once while four more dwarves stood watching, hands about their own cocks and grinning as she whimpered. She liked those evenings, though a princess should not even know of such perversions, liked knowing that her naked body could make every one of her benefactors draw in a sharp breath and flush with desire. She liked, too, that she could repay them for their kindness with more than mediocre housekeeping and absentminded near-death experiences.

They never came to her one at a time, never approached her in the little bed they made for her, in the alcove behind a curtain where they gave her privacy. No, it was always all of them, seven grinning dwarves pulling her down on the hearthrug and stripping her clothes away with gentle, clever, eager hands, pinching her nipples and her clit to hear her moan, kissing her breathless and limp beneath them. She had offered, the first time, sixteen and sheltered and virgin as she was, not even knowing what it was she was offering, but she had stood bare and proud and beautiful before them and offered them recompense for their hospitality, and they had taken it eagerly, for after all she was the fairest of all. The first time hurt a little, but they were gentle, petting her and murmuring in her ear how beautiful, perfect, wonderful she was, and then the pain dissolved into pleasure and joy, and she was no longer afraid.

She will never tell the Prince that her virgin blood was spilled on a bearskin hearthrug in a dwarven house, deep in the forests where no one goes; she will never tell the Prince that she laid herself out like a sacrifice for seven eager dwarves, and relished every minute of their attention. She will never tell the Prince that on the long cold nights when she lies alone in bed and he has gone, she dreams of dwarven kisses, and a simple hearth, and home.


End file.
